Genetic Default
by ArtemisApollo97
Summary: David Yatchman has spent much of his life dedicated to eradicating mutants- dangerous, unnatural creatures unfit for human civilisation. When chance places a naturally born mutant within his family, where do his loyalties lie?


Emma Yatchman tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear, her sapphire eyes bright in the soft light of the hallway. She straightened her navy blue cardigan over her white T-shirt and opened the door, wiping soapy water from the dishes on her jeans. Her motherly smile faltered when she saw the military officials standing in her doorway. Their black, armoured uniforms were stamped with the bright yellow logo of the Anti-Mutant Squad.

"Can I help you?" She asked, keeping her tone as calm and as kind as possible, forcing a smile to show her lack of hostility. One of the three men flashed an identification badge at her, his frown grim and stern.

"We are searching all houses in the area for possible mutant activity." He retrieved a bit of paper from his shirt pocket, revealing a search warrant.

"Emma, what is going on?" Emma glanced over her shoulder, seeing her husband approach. He was tall and athletic with thick, dark brown hair and warm emerald green eyes. His arm went around her casually as he studied her in concern. He frowned and anger sparked in his eyes when he realised who stood on his doorstep. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded.

"General Yatchman, sir," They all saluted, "We're investigating a mutant scare and have been warranted to search all houses in the surrounding area." One of the men, the one on the next step down, was muttering angrily to himself and furiously tapping at some touch-screen handheld device; too complex to be a phone, but too small to be a tablet.

"Sir, I'm getting high readings." He reported, glancing up at his colleague. In turn, the leading man examined David Yatchman sceptically.

"Do you really think I would not know of a mutant's presence within my own home?"

"No, sir, but mutants are tricky blighters."

"I'm well aware of that, soldier."

"We will have to search your house all the same, sir. It's standard procedure." Fury trembled through David's body and the three men on the doorstep tensed.

"I know of the procedure!" He snapped. "I bloody wrote them!" The trio visibly blanched and took a step back, one of them slipping on the bottom step. "You dare accuse me of a mutant in my own home?" He raged. Emma rested a hand on his chest and he forced a lid on his temper.

Upstairs, their nine children were hustled in one of the larger bedrooms. The eldest boys, Aston, Matthew and Jake- aged nineteen, seventeen and fifteen respectfully- were keeping their younger sisters in check. Stacey and Rebecca, fourteen year old identical twins resembling their mother, were huddled in the corner, warily watching their ten year old quadruplet sisters.

Bethany and Rosie were sat on one bed, Bethany absent-mindedly braiding Rosie's thick raven hair, her own blonde hair fashioned in a hap-hazard ponytail. The pair were quiet and sullen, their sapphire eyes tinged with worry. Lilly, also blonde with light green eyes, was watching the youngest of them- Violet.

Violet lent against the wall, shaking chronically. Her emerald eyes were fixed on the floor, glaring and pained, while her wavy auburn hair tumbled about her face in wild tangles. She was biting her knuckles of her clenched fist, her other hand tucked into the crook of her elbow. To the untrained and unknowing eye, she was simply an aggressive and tempermental child dressed scruffily in a football T-shirt a few sizes too big, baggy tracksuit bottoms and muddy, worn trainers.

To those who were well aware of her unique condition, they knew of the torment ridiculing their family and the agony she went through on a daily basis.

The youngest Yatchman child paid no attention to her silent, anxious siblings, her keen hearing listening to the argument brewing downstairs. Her father was adamant of a mutant-free home while the three men argued the need for their job. Technically speaking, her father was their boss and he could lay down the rules and orders as he pleased. Long before he met their mother and settled down to have children, he founded a committee to control the ever-increasing tide of illegal mutant organisms hidden away throughout the country. Mutants were dangerous, highly powerful and uncontrollable creatures with a tendency to leave destruction and death in their wake.

Of course, not all mutants were like this, the minority standing up against the majority of their kind. But, good or bad, mutants were treated the same, all the precautions taken and all force used to quell them.

It had obviously hit home when David found out he had a mutant for a daughter.

What made the situation even trickier was that Violet was different, even by mutant standards. The average mutant was victim of some form of kidnapping or blackmail, tested on illegally and developing strange cases of varying powers and strengths. Their creators got off without any punishment as they tended to dive under the radar or rid themselves from the world before trouble caught up with them.

Violet wasn't like this. The Yatchman parents went to all extents to keep their children safe and cared for, yet a mutant had been naturally born into the family, with no mutant relations on either side. David had heard of only one case like this- his old mentor had a daughter who was born a mutant, later to go missing in an attempt to save her elderly father from the harassment of the Anti-Mutant Squad.

A born mutant was more likely to be stronger and more powerful than an artificial mutant and they also caused the most trouble. Radars searching for mutants of any calibre often went berserk or short-circuited just by detecting a mere signal from natural mutants. That was the issue downstairs right now.

"Sir, the radar spiked!" The one with the handheld device exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. His leading colleague rounded on the spouses, his expression hard, disbelieving, smug and fuming. David met his gaze calmly, the stubborn clench of his jaw indicating his rising temper.

He was about to speak when the device gave a series of bleeps that were so fast, it was one, high-pitched monotonous sound. The owner dropped it just before it shot sparks and blacked out. David tried to stay calm, sensing his wife's heightened concern for their daughter.

Violet had her eyes screwed closed, biting harder into her knuckles and holding back a scream. There were a few, random occasions were inexplicable pain coursed through her being, doubling and tripling at intervals and then vanishing as suddenly as throwing a switch. It always left her light-headed and weak at the knees, exhausted and trembling in fading agony. Her father suspected it was her human DNA clashing against the mutant. Both sides were fighting for dominance and neither side was relenting. He was trying his uttermost hardest to find a cure, whether it be to rid her of the mutant variation completely or allow it to win and to leave her an outlaw.

It was several minutes before the torment subsided and it was a miracle her parents had waylaid their visitors as long as they had. Any second now, they would force entry and search the house thoroughly from top to bottom and that risked putting her family in harm's way.

She couldn't allow that to happen.

The Yatchman children watched as their youngest sister gathered her resolve, her eyes flashing dangerously with stubbornness. She yanked her army jacket from the hook on the back of the door, pulling it on and fastening the zip. Her rucksack was ready and packed with non-perishable food, water and other essentials sat ready and waiting under her bed for such an occasion. She wasted no time in recovering it and slinging it across her back, her arms sliding through the straps. She cast a final glance around at her siblings, all of them giving her smiles and nods.

"I'm sorry." She said thickly, noticing no trace of emotion in her voice.

"Be careful." Aston pleaded. Violet just nodded and turned to the window, pushing it open and clambering out, clinging to the drainpipe and sidling down as easy as pie. Her family will not suffer consequences for her mere existence, not while she was alive.

* * *

><p><strong>I still can't figure out a decent title for this, but I felt like posting it on here to see if it's worth continuing. I do have another chapter somewhere, but it is not directly after this one, further down the line. I may or not post it as of yet; I'll need to fill in the blanks between this one and that one. Be honest, what do you think? :) <strong>


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